Mad About You
by OneHellOfAnOtaku123
Summary: AU: Arthur Kirkland's world is about to be completely turned upside down. After his good friend, Francis, accidentally breaks an old mirror, the young Brit purchases an antique mirror. But he has no way of knowing that it comes with a price, or a cupcake loving mad man. What will happen to Arthur when his past comes back to haunt him? Englandcest.Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Gah! It's been forever since I've attempted to write a story. ;-; I've just been reading a lot of fanfiction lately, and then I got inspired to write this gem- I literally found this story in my documents. It was so bad that I decided to try and revise it a little. And I think I did pretty dang good! This will be a multi chapter story, and my first story that I've written by myself. No more tag team for me! Without a further ado, here is my new Englandcest fic~ Enjoy~**

**Title: Mad About You**

**Rating: M**

**Pairing:1p!Englandx2pEngland, slight FrUk, but the story is centered around Oliver and Arthur. Might throw a bit of Spamano in somewhere. Just because they're my OTP. You'll probably have to squint for it, if I do include them.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Hetalia! All rights and characters belong to Himapapa~**

**Warning: This fic is rated M for a reason. It will contain explicit MalexMale relationship(s?)**

**You have been warned**

** 'Mad About You'**

"That'll be about eighty pounds for that one there, lad." A stout salesman from 'Wiseman's Choice Antiques' jabbered out in a heavily accented British grunt, hastily pulling himself from the stool he had been lazily loafing about on.

He raised one of his fairly plump fingers to the front of the dusty little shop, pointing directly at a well kempt vintage mirror a young customer had been eyeing warily.

"E-eighty pounds?!" the young man cried out in disbelief, a pile of sweat forming just above his brow. He turned his bright green eyes towards the worker, staring into the man's boring grey eyes with a mortified expression.

"Afraid so, lad." The worker replied with a monotone ring to his voice. He shrugged towards the younger man, pulling out a newspaper from below the desk. "Don't like it, don't buy it," he muttered, half-heartedly sitting back on the stool, kicking his feet up onto the table before him. He stuck his crinkled nose into the newspaper, not wanting to converse with his customer any longer than need be.

The customer, an Arthur Kirkland, paced around the little shop slowly, sauntering his way over to said mirror deep in thought. He cautiously ran a pale hand down the frame of the fragile antique, having an internal argument with himself. Should he spend such well-earned money on this flimsy little thing, or should he spend his money elsewhere, on something that might be of better taste, or have more appeal with people that visited his house often, which was a very small handful of acquaintances.

He pursed his pinkish lips childishly in thought, whilst his striking green eyes surveyed the other merchandise that was covered in mountains of dust and piles of cobwebs. From under his shaggy blonde hair, none of the other objects had quite fancied the gentleman like this mirror had. Something about this particular mirror piqued his interest; it had an alluring aura around it.

Begrudgingly, the British man dragged himself towards the back of the shop to purchase the mesmerizing item.

"I'll take it." He mumbled roughly, pulling out his old, worn out wallet which had his country's flag plastered onto the front of it.

'If only that bloody frog, Francis, hadn't of completely obliterated my old stand-up mirror, I wouldn't have to go through all this bloody trouble!' Arthur thought to himself irritably, a rather bushy eyebrow twitching up in anger.

Returning to reality, Arthur hastily pulled the money from his wallet almost a bit hesitantly, seeing the man directly across from him setting aside the wrinkled newspaper he had seemingly been so engrossed in.

"Pleasure doin' business with ye." The grubby man spat out sarcastically, reaching out a rather dirty hand in an attempt to retrieve the undeserved investment.

"Yes… Quite the 'pleasure'." Arthur drawled out venomously, his narrowed eyes flashing towards said man in distaste.

The young Brit rudely slammed the money down into the palm of the employee's grimy hand, not taking any notice of the startled gawks and stares being thrown towards him in every direction by the innocent bystanders in the worn-down shop.

With a swift jerk of his feet, Arthur spun himself away from the ungrateful employee, taking unsure steps towards his new prized possession.

Upon reaching his destination, Arthur grimaced as he stood in front of the sooty mirror, crouching down sluggishly as his prominent jade eyes surveyed the aged frame, his thick eyebrows wrinkling fervently in thought.

A vibrant pink colour dusted itself across Arthur's cheeks, long, lithe fingers curling around the wooden frame. Just how in whole bloody world was he going to carry this mirror to his car? With a large intake of breath, Arthur hefted the antique up off of the ground, sending dust bunnies and cobwebs to sputter around in the summer's air.

To his surprise, Arthur had miraculously managed to steer clear from any harm as he reached his old, beaten up Toyota. Setting the mirror down onto the hot concrete, Arthur groaned in discomfort, his shoulders having become very sore from the weight of his newly bought item.

Pushing the fact his shoulders were sore out of his mind, Arthur rummaged through his jacket pocket, retrieving a small chain of keys, decorated with very plain and simple key rings.

Cursing under his breath, the Brit sought out his car key, unlocking his car. He dragged the hefty mirror towards one side of the car, opening one of the back doors. The summer sun blared down unbearingly onto Arthur's pale skin, causing sweat to form just under his brow. Wiping the unwanted sweat away, the young blonde gingerly situated the mirror into his back seats, heaving in breath once he had accomplished the task.

Making a small hum of victory, Arthur wiped his sweaty palms onto his black slacks, smirking as he secured the door shut.

"Let's see that frog try and break this one!" Arthur muttered to himself, slipping into the driver's seat.

After fumbling with the keys, Arthur had managed to get his car started, the engine soon roaring to life. Cautiously, the green eyed gentleman began to pull out of the parking lot. Despite himself, the Brit smiled as he began the long journey back home, suddenly feeling quite accomplished of the day's events.

Humming to himself, Arthur switched on the radio, scowling as he heard over-played pop songs blaring through the quaint system. He was quick to change the radio station, accustoming himself with a smooth, mellow song.

Unaware of vivid blue eyes watching him, Arthur raked a pale hand through his hair, cursing lightly as another trashy song surfaced through his radio's speakers. Not satisfied with the song, Arthur simply turned off the system, lying back in his seat as he stared blankly at the road, his house spotted within a yard from where he drove.

"Awww, hon," A voice echoed inside of the car, causing the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck stand up. "Why'd you turn that song off? I was enjoying it, you know~"

Arthur froze immediately, pulling up into his drive way. He broke out in a nervous sweat, his emerald orbs wide as he whipped his head back at the mirror. His fear washed away instantly as all he saw was his reflection staring right back at him, moving with him.

Sighing with a wave of relief, Arthur unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping outside of the car.

"I must be hearing things." He deduced by himself, wiping away a bead of sweat that had formed just above his upper lip.

"Oh but, hon," The same voice rang out, louder than it had the previous time. "This is just simply the beginning."

**AN: So how was it? Good, cheesy? R&R dolls~**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back~**

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, follows, favorites and reading my story! ^^ Reviews make my heart sing, and my confidence soar~**

**So I think I finally chose what I'm going to do with this story. Not too sure about adding Francis anymore, because I don't know where he would fit in with the route I chose. –shrugs- Bleh. Enjoy~**

Chapter Two:

'_This is just simply the beginning.'_

Steam floated through the room, successfully blurring Arthur's vision. The scalding water rained down against his sensitive skin, leaving behind red patches to roam the flesh of his exposed body. Arthur let a soft sigh escape his pink lips, the pleasant water soothing the soreness from his shoulders.

The relaxing shower almost made him forget about the bone chilling message that whirled around, deep within his conscience. Repeating itself over and over, until it began to make Arthur's stomach churn in distaste.

'_This is just simply the beginning.' _

The pale man blinked, water droplets falling gracefully from his dark lashes and onto his cheeks. Ever so slowly his head rolled back, his emerald orbs staring indifferently at the ceiling; his focus elsewhere.

"This is just simply the beginning." Arthur repeated aloud, the words rolling off of his tongue before he could prevent his lips from moving.

"…" He fell silent, uncapping a bottle of his favorite shampoo. The scent of fresh strawberries wafted through the bathroom, filling the man's nostrils with the enticing odor almost immediately.

'I'm just tired is all, that's why I'm hearing things." He thought calmly, trying to convince himself.

Though the thought itself seemed reassuring and credible, Arthur couldn't help himself from feeling uncertain and uneasy about the situation. It wasn't everyday he was hearing things. Maybe a few times when he was intoxicated, Francis had told him once that he had been talking to something he referred to as a 'Flying Mint Bunny' on one occasion.

With a slight blush, he pushed away the absurd thoughts, pouring a small amount of shampoo into his palm. He set the bottle to the side as he began to massage the substance into his scalp, clenching his eyelids shut as he did so, not wanting the soapy residue to irritate his eyes.

Keeping his eyelids shut tightly, Arthur leaned his head back into the warm water, rinsing the suds from his blonde mane. He waited a few minutes before he pulled back from the raining water, not feeling any more suds sloshing through his fingers.

He hummed contently, combing his soaked hair to the side and away from his forehead, gradually opening his eyelids. He came face to face with the blue tiles on the walls, his thoughts running wild about the voice. He shook his head stubbornly, picking up a washcloth and a bar of soap, trying to rid himself of his thoughts.

Arthur finished his shower shortly after, wrapping a towel loosely around his waist. He exited the bathroom, the cool air hitting his skin like tiny needles. The pale male shivered, small ringlets of water dropping from his golden mane like dewdrops on morning grass.

Goose bumps glazed over his skin as he began to walk, a familiar feeling of dread pooling in Arthur's stomach.

"…"

The air surrounding him became thin, an eerie silence lingering through the halls. Shadows dashed behind him, laughing sinisterly and lurking evilly behind the walls. Arthur became aware of the presence, his stomach twisting and turning with fear. He had felt this way before, but he couldn't place a finger as to when or where.

'_Nothing's there, Arthur. Snap out of it. Nothing's there. For God's sake, you're twenty-three! _'

A painting smiled maliciously, its eyes following Arthur's quickening feet.

'_Remember what Mama used to say. It's all in your head. You need your medicine_.'

Breathing in, Arthur snapped his eyes shut. His hands clenched as he fell to his knees, a deafening scream tearing itself from his throat. Tears pooled down his eyelids, all strength leaving him as he fell to the ground in defeat. Memories blocked out by therapy pooled to the surface, engulfing him with the past he yearned to forget.

"_Mama?" Arthur murmured one night, emerald orbs glancing up at his mother, who was reading him a bed time story full of exciting journeys about pirates who were on a mystical search for mermaids._

_The young woman looked up from the page to Arthur, a fine eyebrow rising in question. She closed the book she had been reading to Arthur, setting it down to lay comfortably in her lap. _

_She looked back to Arthur, her brown eyes shining brightly through long eyelashes. Her hair was blonde and fair, flowing just under her smooth shoulders, glowing in the light. She smiled sweetly through pink lips, faint freckles peppering her rosy cheeks. _

"_Yes, Arthur?" She asked, setting the book on his night stand._

"…" _the child opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. His lips trembled as he shook his head back and forth, drawing his knees to his chest. "Never mind…" he choked out, hiding his face in his knees._

_Arthur's mother knit her eyebrows in confusion, laying her hand on the child's shoulder._

"_Artie?" She tried, shaking him gently._

"…" _No response._

"_Artie, love?" She tried again, the mattress shifting under her weight as she scooted closer to the boy, plucking him from his spot. She sat the trembling child in her lap, a slender finger forcing Arthur's chin up. She gasped suddenly, bringing a hand to her mouth as she looked at her son's bleak expression. _

_Hot tears rolled down his reddened cheeks, his eyes stinging and bloodshot as he refused to let any more tears fall. He began to shake violently, refusing to cry out. His mother began to panic, pushing back strands of hair from Arthur's face, shaking him gently._

"_Arthur? Darling!" She repeated frantically, on the verge of tears. "Sweetheart, what is it?" She asked, her voice cracking as she helplessly held Arthur closer to her slender form, her heart racing wildly in her chest._

"_..O-Oli.." Arthur suddenly gasped out hesitantly, gripping his mother's shoulder to draw her closer as a whimper escaped him. _

_His mother's eyes widened, the color in her cheeks fading away. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to panic. She had heard of him before, he was Arthur's imaginary friend. "You mean your friend, Oliver?" _

_Arthur nodded slowly, playing with the fabric of his mother's gown._

"… _Go on, my angel... Mommy's here." She encouraged, attempting to calm the young boy down by rubbing circles into his back._

"_H-he... told me…" Arthur choked, trying to control his breathing so that he could speak clearly. He regained his composure, breathing in shakily. "He said… t-that you were going to die... a-and-" the child gulped, his mother's arms growing tighter around his body. "T-that… it'd be all my fault... " He began to sob again, his tears staining his mother's night gown._

"_Shh, love…" his mother whispered gently, rocking Arthur in her arms. She smiled as Arthur nuzzled closer to her chest, exhausted from his little outburst. _

"_Shh.. everything's all right." She repeated, carrying Arthur out of his room, switching the light off. "Mommy isn't going to die, angel." She said slowly, watching Arthur doze off in her arms. "Because Oliver isn't real."_

"_B-but..-" he began to protest, a finger silencing him. _

_She walked into her bedroom, laying Arthur on her bed. "Now, now..." she murmured, tucking the covers under Arthur. She lay next to him, embracing the tired child in her arms. "Mommy's here and she'll protect you, all right? It's all in your head. There isn't anyone named Oliver."_

_The child nodded slowly, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with each passing second._

_His mother laughed gently and kissed Arthur's forehead. _

"_I love you, Mama." Arthur whispered._

"_I love you too, my ang-" Her words broke off as a loud snap filled the room._

"_Mama? What was that?" Arthur murmured, opening his eyes slowly._

"…" _No answer._

"_Mama-" Arthur froze in place, his eyes focusing not on his mother, but on the child snapping her neck._

_A child that looked about the same age as Arthur smirked, letting Arthur's mother's head fall from his hands. He straightened out his vest, his bright blue eyes flickering toward Arthur._

"_Oh, Poppet!" He chirped, clapping his freckled hands together. His smirk grew as he looked down at the corpse. "This wouldn't have happened if you would've stayed quiet about me. So I guess you could say it was your fault~" _

_Arthur began to feel dizzy, his stomach churning in fear and disbelief. "N-no.. It's not my fault!" He started to shake his mother's body, becoming desperate. _

_Oliver rolled his eyes, slowly sauntering toward the distracted child._

"_Mama!" He cried, the room swirling around him, slowly turning black. His arms became heavy to the point he couldn't pick them up, his body falling down onto the mattress as he began to lose consciousness. Oliver leaned forward to whisper in his ear, his breath tickling the hairs on Arthur's neck._

"_Oh, hon." A small cackle filled the air. "This is just simply the beginning~"_

_And then the world turned black._


	3. Chapter 3

/A/N: Ack! I've just come to realize that it's been over a month since my last update. ;^;I'm sorry everyone! I'll try to update regularly from now on! Promise!On a different note, my birthday is in two days, guys! ^°^ ah- I'm so excited~ Cookie for anyone who has caught on to what Arthur needs his medicine for- Enjoy, my lovely readers3/

Dark lashes fluttered violently, eyelids snapped open suddenly, revealing a shy emerald that they hid underneath. Blurry glances and confused whimpers left the man that lay on the floor, the silence leaving him to try to figure out where he was and what was going on.

His breath was uneven, an empty gasp wretched itself from his throat and another shudder snaked itself through his body. Long fingers twitched against the rugged carpet, the realization that a forbidden memory had resurfaced struck Arthur simultaneously.

"..." the pale man lifted himself up in a sitting position, the damp towel adorning his waist in an appropriate manner.

'What... What was that?' His mind reeled with questioning curiosity, his fingers tangling themselves into his blonde hair, tugging down on the strands. Frustrated growls left his parted lips, angry tears streamed down his flushed cheeks. Reality hit him like thousands of bricks, he was awake, and that certainly wasn't a nightmare, but a memory of something Arthur had tried very hard to forget.

"No.. No.." The man murmured, his body unconsciously scooting itself back on the cold wooden floor. A small thud could be heard as his pale back collided with the door to his room. With trembling fingers, Arthur fumbled with the door knob, succeeding in opening it. His emerald irises flickered around frantically, his stomach twisting and turning, voices whispering to one another, laughing eerily all around the man.

"Medicine... where's my medicine?" He murmured, rummaging through his dresser doors, ripping clothes from his closet, completely destroying his once neat room.

Bringing himself to his hands and knees, Arthur peered into the dark abyss under his bed, his pupils dialating, trying to adjust to the lack of light. An orange cylinder came in his view, his eyes widening, a sigh of relief escaping the man on the floor.

Just as Arthur's hand had touched the cylinder, hot breath began to ghost down his neck, tickling the hairs that reside there. Arthur's hand twitched in fear, his body betraying him as he was paralyzed where he knelt.

Small pressure was pushing down on Arthur's back, shrill voices chanted and mingled around Arthur's mind. Dizziness began to overwhelm Arthur once more, a small hand caressing his waist while a head rested in the crook of his neck. The voices gained more sound, dancing with each other in an unnerving manner, the steamy breath relocating right above Arthur's ear lobe.

"Do you remember me, Poppet?~" the voice breathed, a gentle arm snaking itself around Arthur's heaving abdomen, soft lips pressing themselves up against the cartilage of his ear. The pressure on Arthur's exposed back increased, a body arched into him. The voice spoke up again, "Because I, for one, couldn't stop thinking about you~" it purred, the arm around his abdomen retreating, and a soft hand cupping Arthur's chin.

Speechless and stricken with fear, Arthur was silent, his eyes unmoving as they stared blankly at the orange container of hope that could pull Arthur from his mess. His breath caught in his throat as the apparition above him turned his head around with a single finger, forcing him to look into those bright blue eyes he knew all too well.

Panic coursed through Arthur's body, bursts of adrenaline raced through his veins as he took in the sight before him. Sandy blonde hair covered the man's eyebrows, that bright blue drawing Arthur's eyes to the millions of freckles adorning the man's heart shaped face. Perfect white teeth were lined in two rows, putting themselves on show as they peeked out from the apparition' s lips, standing out in the dark room.

"Oh, Arthur," the voice whispered, breaking said man's train of thought. The freckled man sprawled himself across Arthur's naked lap, pressing his nose against the man's cheek. "It's been too long, has it not?" He murmured, his fingers brushing against Arthur's lips. Arthur shuddered at the touch, his mouth quivering against the freckled fingers, yearning to get a word out. The man frowned childishly, his hand rubbing Arthur's upper arm. "You do remember my name, no?"

"O-.. Oliver..." He said in a voice just below a whisper, his hands clenched at his sides as the man on top of him giggled sweetly, nodding against his cheek.

"And here I thought you forgot all about me!~" Oliver exclaimed, clapping his freckled hands together in triumph. He reluctantly removed himself from Arthur's lap, standing tall infront of him. Oliver smiled down at him, his eyes half open.

"Isn't that a wonderful turn of events?" He hummed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He knelt down infront of the terrified man, his hand caressing Arthur's cheek. "You and I will have a lot of fun from now.~" Oliver declared, leaning in closer toward Arthur's face.

"But for now, I'm afraid," Oliver began, his hand sneakily grabbing the Orange cylinder from under the bed. With a small huff, the blue eyed apparition turned the cap, twisting it off in a matter of moments. He took his time, his eyes scanning the information on the prescribed drug.

"Risperdal." The freckled man read, his blonde eyebrows furrowed as he sounded out the drug. With a shrug, Oliver pulled out one tablet, studying it closely with interest. He blinked a few times, rolling the tablet between his index finger and his thumb whilst Arthur watched him silently.

"Isn't is strange," Oliver mused, forcing Arthur's mouth open with his lithe fingers. He studied the tablet once more, setting down softly on Arthur's tongue. "That man has resorted to medicine to fix their beautiful impurities, rather than living with their flaws and enjoying the sweet bliss that not everyone is perfect?" Oliver asked more to himself than to Arthur, flicking the tablet down the emerald eyed man's throat.

Arthur choked as the pill traveled down his throat, air escaping his lungs as the pill blocked his air tubes temporarily. The green eyed man swatted at Oliver weakly, his breath uneven and drowsiness overcoming his body as Oliver just simply smirked. His eyelids becoming too heavy, Arthur groaned, closing them slowly. The last thing he felt before losing conscious was something soft pressing against his lips, and a garbled voice speaking to him, the words not clear.

/A/N: short chapter is short orz


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